Line
by Hitsuiro Issa
Summary: Who drew the line between you and me? Another pointless drabble. Character death, amen. 8D DouWata.


Ponchatrain

---

_Who drew the line-_

--

It was merely a dance they were having; a dance hovering between the posibilities of life and death, a dance that bordered the thin line of insanity, of need, of desire. Theirs was a dance of unreality, a figment of both's wildest tier of imagination, yet as it is the reality of the unreal, theirs is the dance that phantoms across their minds, longing to influence their crossed destinies.

-

Sometimes, it felt depressing to define their relationship in such a vague way, since it only proved as to how cruel hitsuzen could be. Of course they would never be together, happiness had never been fated for the heroes in legends; no matter how long or how far they would go for the other, destiny's cruel strings that had earlier bound them to each other would start pulling them away, and soon they would find each other at the farthest end of the ongoing pendulum of reality.

-

And so,

-

-they start building their own world, their own reality, quite contrary to what should be. They are bending will, denting fate, conquering the inevitable- with just a few moments, fingers intertwined with the other's, bodies connected and eyes shut in delirious pleasure-

-

It never deemed enough to talk.

So he says a few things, shuts his mouth, starts again. The other would comply with a few one-word grunts of his own, probing a few more sentences from the volatile seer, and soon enough the dance begins.

It's never really a fight since they're holding hands, but nobody else really seems to care anyway, because one of them is too far gone, far too special to actually mean something in reality.

--

_-between-_

--

He had once been locked in a cage of self-hate, and probably is still.

He's the key to the other's soul- but, like a frantic butterfly, once he opens the cage at last, the prisoner would fly away.

Such is the fate of two individuals.

-

So don't,

-

He doesn't want to close his eyes because sometimes he isn't really seeing anymore.

He could feel the bonds of fate slithering around his slender neck, tightening its hold, and he doesn't know if he's screaming or crying or worse-

-

It's like dying, he realizes.

--

_-you and me? _

--

If it wasn't a dance, it was a game then. A game of chance, wherein the winner is always the one who dies first, and the loser is the one left behind.

He could see his chances now.

-

"You ought to consider things before throwing yourself in the way like that."

"You'd have died if I had hesitated."

"There are more important things than my survival, Doumeki. Besides, I can take care of myself."

It's the sin of denial that keeps him from throwing his arms around the archer's neck and crying for all the world to hear.

--

_Who drew the line- _

--

He can't say, "There are no other important things in life, because you are all I care about."

-

So he doesn't say,

-

And in the end, it's too late. With Watanuki Kimihiro, a moment lost is a chance too late.

And now he's going to disappear.

--

_-that cuts through the skin?_

_Buries me in- _

--

Dying wasn't so bad after all.

After the pain, all things are left numbed, and he's not feeling anything else anymore. So he closes his eyes, allows his heart to pump life back into his veins in futile attempts, and mouths what he had always longed to say.

_I love- _

-

Was Doumeki listening, or was he too caught up in tears to hear what he's saying?

--

_Tell me, who drew the line? _

--

A moment forgotten in insanity:

"I thought I'd never live long to see the day I'd grace your efforts for saving me with a kiss."

-Kimihiro, age 17.

He believes, well- he believes he spoke too soon.

-

Or was Doumeki dying himself?

There was blood glistening innocently on his chest, spreading quickly as the archer bent over his own battered body, and Watanuki weakly fumbles on the tattered shirt of the taller man.

He saw the truth in the amber eyes- we're going down together, see?

"No-" he chokes, coughs up blood, tries again- "No, you-"

--

_Darling, don't close your eyes._

--

His hands, no matter how cold and lifeless, was warm in another's.

---

-owarimasu.

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A/N: Okaaaay, that was really weird. I got the idea from the song "Ponchatrain" by Vienna Teng- and oh, how I love her voice. 8D

Here's an odd attempt for angst. Somewhat. xD Reviews are always welcomed, of course.


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